Politics of the Centrifuge

At the Fan District Slant there's a new version of Politics of the Centrifuge up at that new web site for commentary on politics and popular culture.

Instead, we live in a time of rampant certitude. Of certitude, philosopher/mathematician Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) made a timeless observation:

The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser men so full of doubts.

So, a modern political debate, whether it’s on television or at happy hour, usually amounts to people slinging harsh and practiced talking points back and forth, without either side reacting to what is actually being said.  

Today, instead of politics of the melting pot, we have politics of the centrifuge. 

 Click here to read the entire piece. 

Unvarnishing Virginia History

-- Originally published by STYLE Weekly in 2007

Robert E. Lee (Jan. 19, 1807-Oct. 12, 1870),
fashioned after Jean Antoine Mercie's Lee Monument,
which was unveiled in 1890.

Note: The piece above, "Mercie's Lee," is an ink and pastels study of the statue of Robert E. Lee that is on Monument Ave. in my neighborhood. Three years in the making, French sculptor Jean Antoine Mercie's Lee Monument was unveiled in 1890.

*

Having grown up in Richmond, I've been steeped in its dual sense of bitterness and pride over matters to do with, and stemming from, the Civil War. Perhaps thinned out somewhat by time, it remains in the air we breathe at the fall line of the James River.

Most of my life has been spent in the Fan District, which is home to four statues honoring heroes of the Confederacy. Beyond monuments, to know what it was like in Richmond in the past, we look to history. It comes to us in many ways — stories told, popular culture and schooling among them.

In 1961, my seventh-grade history book, which was the official history of Virginia for use in all public junior high schools — as decreed by the General Assembly — had this to say about slavery at the end of its Chapter 29:

Life among the Negroes of Virginia in slavery times was generally happy. The Negroes went about in a cheerful manner making a living for themselves and for those whom they worked. They were not so unhappy as some Northerners thought they were, nor were they so happy as some Southerners claimed. The Negroes had their problems and their troubles. But they were not worried by the furious arguments going on between Northerners and Southerners over what should be done with them. In fact, they paid little attention to those arguments.

In 1961 I had no reason to question that paragraph's veracity. Baseball was my No. 1 concern in those days. Now those words read quite differently.

Living through the struggles of the Civil Rights era, with its bombings, assassinations, marches, sit-ins, boycotts and school-closings, did much to show me a new light, to do with truth and fairness. However, for me, there was no moment of epiphany, no sudden awareness I was growing up in a part of the world that officially denied aspects of its past. More than anything else, it took time. Life experience taught me to look more deeply into things.

Now I know that dusty old history book was a cog in the machinery that made the Jim Crow era possible.

Nonetheless, that same history book's view of how it was for those enslaved is one that some Virginians still want to believe. It's probably what they were taught as children, too. Some call it "heritage." Many of this persuasion also cling to the bogus factoid that since most Southerners didn't hold slaves, the Civil War itself was not fought over slavery.

Which is preposterous.

Of course poor Southerners, those who weren't plantation owners, had little to do with starting the Civil War. Generally speaking, poor people with no clout don't launch wars anywhere; rich people with too much power do.

So, for the most part, the men who fought in gray uniforms were doing what they felt was expected of them. As with most wars, the bulk of those who fought and died for either side between 1861 and 1865 were just ordinary Joes who had no say-so over declaring war or negotiating peace.

In Virginia, many who chose to wear gray did so to reverse what seemed to them to be an invasion of their home state. That's the reason the heritage clingers like the best.

Yet, if the reader wants to understand more deeply why Virginia eventually left the Union, to follow the secessionist hotheads of South Carolina and Mississippi into war, here's a clue from Chapter 30 of that same history book, which opened with this:

In 1790 there were more than 290,000 slaves in Virginia. This number was larger than that of any other state.

Those 290,000 slaves were worth a lot of money to their owners and such wealthy families had a lot of say-so.

Thus, the largest part of the real blame for the bloodshed of the war, and the subsequent indignities of the Reconstruction era, probably rests with wealthy slaveholders who would not give up their investments in cheap labor without a fight. 

Readers interested in how much the official record of the Civil War has changed over the decades since the Civil Rights era should pay a visit to the Virginia Historical Society in Richmond. Its telling of the story of the Civil War is now based on the unvarnished truth.

Moreover, I am proud to be a Virginian. There's plenty of Virginia history that has nothing to do with picking sides in the Civil War. My ancestors go back to the 1600s in this commonwealth. But I will not stand with anyone who chooses to stay the course with the absurd denials of history — to do with slavery — that were crammed into that old public school textbook.

As for my friends in Richmond who haven't had a fresh thought on matters racial since they were seventh-graders, well, I don't want to pick a fight with them. So mostly we talk about other things — baseball still works.

All that said, Robert E. Lee, whose spectacular monument I see every day, remains a Virginian I admire. I realize his reputation has taken somewhat of a beating in recent years, but the dual sense of tragedy and dignity his statue conveys remains striking. In his time and place, torn between loyalties, it seems to me Lee tried to do what he saw as his duty.

After the war a weary Lee urged his fellow Virginians to let it go — to move on. That was good advice in 1865. It still is.

-- 30 --

-- Illustration by F.T. Rea

The Strange Case of Gus the Cat

Though cynical people like to say, “All cats are gray in the dark,” the difference between this and that counts with me. Thus, if for no other purpose than to satisfy my own curiosity, I set out to find the truth about Gus, the cat that had long presided over lower Carytown from his plush basket in a display window facing the street.

The mystery began in the course of a casual conversation about re-makes of old movies. Film buff Ted Salins, a regular among the society of conversationalists who gather at the tables on the sidewalk in front of Coffee & Co., tossed out that the cat living next door in Carytown Books is not the “original” Gus.

Since I’ve known Salins, a writer/filmmaker/house-painter, for a long time, I suspected his charge was a setup for a weak joke. To give him room to operate I asked, “So, this Gus is an impostor?”

“Just like Lassie, several cats have played the role of Gus over the years,” Salins said matter-of-factly.

Until that moment it hadn’t occurred to me that Gus, someone else’s cat, had slowly become important to me over the years. In the past I’ve been told that he’s over 15, maybe pushing 20. Who can say what that is in cat years? He still has a few teeth left.

“You see, in ‘91 I had lost my beloved Skinkywinkydinky in a separation,” Salins went on, as if revealing a dark conspiracy. “When I first saw Gus, I took to him because he reminded me of Skinky. That Gus wouldn't let you touch him. But, this Gus…”

“Ted, this is absolutely the most off-the-wall nonsense you’ve come up with yet,” I accused.

“The place has changed hands a few times since then,” Salins smugly offered. “The problem is each owner falls in love with the cat and keeps it. But since Gus has become an institution in Carytown, each set of new owners has to find another cat that looks like Gus. The switch is made at night in order to preserve the secret. I’ve seen it.”

Before I could say “horsefeathers,” another member of the Carytown intelligentsia, who had just walked up, spoke: “Salins, as usual you’re all wet,” said artist Jay Bohannan. “That is not only the same cat, but Gus is, let’s see, yes, he’s nearly 70. That particular cat is probably the oldest cat this side of the island of Lamu.”

I laughed at Bohannan’s crack and excused myself from the table to let them hash it out. The two of them have been arguing good-naturedly since their VCU art school days in the early ‘70s.

Walking toward my car, Ted’s suggestion of a fraud having been perpetrated on the public bothered me. I felt certain that if somebody had actually installed a faux Gus in the bookstore it would have been all over the street the next day. As I tried to imagine people spiriting nearly identical cats in and out of the back door, in the dead of night, the matter wouldn’t rest.

So I turned around and went into Carytown Books. The shop’s manager, Kelly Justice, who has worked there for six years under three editions of ownership, scoffed at Salins’ charge.

“Anyone who knows Ted, knows he’s a nitwit,” said Ms. Justice with a wry smile. “More likely than not, this is an attempt to raise funds for another one of his documentaries.”

When I told her about Bohannan’s equally outrageous suggestion that Gus was almost a septuagenarian, Justice laughed out loud. “Perhaps Jay and Ted are both trying to hitch their wagons to Gus’ star,” she suggested playfully.

Back outside, Salins and Bohannan were both gone. So I walked east on the block to Bygones, the collectable clothing and memorabilia store known for its artful window displays. Since Maynee Cayton, the shop’s proprietor, is an unofficial historian for the neighborhood, I decided to see what she knew about Gus.

Cayton, who has been at that location for 16 years, said she had some pictures of the block from the ’30s and ‘40s, but she didn’t think she had any shots of a bookstore cat. However, she did remember that when she was a child she saw a gray and white cat in the window of what was then the Beacon Bookstore.

“It was in the late ’60s, I think it was 1967,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “And I’d say it was a young cat. Either way, I can’t believe the feline impersonator story, so maybe it was Gus.”

The next day, Bohannan called on the phone to tell me he had something I needed to see right away. He was mysterious about it and wouldn’t explain what he was talking about, except to say that it was proof of his claim about Gus the Cat.

Unable to let it go, I told him I’d stop by his place to see what proof he had.

Bohannan’s apartment, located between Carytown and the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, was an escape from the modern world altogether. It’s furnished in a pleasant mix of practical artifacts and curiosities from yesteryear. The heavy black telephone on his desk was almost as old as Jay. Next to the desk was a turn-of-the-century gramophone. Bohannan, himself, dressed like a character who just stepped out of a Depression-era RKO film, reached into a dog-eared manila folder and pulled out a photograph. When I asked him where he had gotten the picture, purportedly from about 1930, he shrugged.

In such a setting, his evidence of Gus’ longevity took on an eerie authenticity. Sitting in one of Bohannan’s ancient oak chairs, surrounded by his own paintings of scenes from Virginia’s past, I thought I could see the cat he claimed was depicted in the storefront’s window. Why, it even looked like Gus.

Jay told me I could keep the photo, it was just a Xerox copy. What a scoop!

Later, when I looked at the grainy picture at home, I could hardly even see a cat. The next day, back in Carytown, I spoke with several people who hang out or work in the neighborhood. A few actually thought Bohannan’s bizarre contention could be true. Others agreed with Salins.

One man, who refused to be quoted with attribution, said he was sure the original Gus was an orange cat. A woman looked up from her crossword puzzle to note that Bohannan's evidence was at least as good as what she'd seen on the Loch Ness Monster.

Then the whole group of chatty know-it-alls went off on the general topic of conspiracy theories and hoaxes. At the next table a woman in a straw hat started sketching the sidewalk scene.

A few days later, I saw Ted Salins holding court in front of the coffee shop. I told him what Kelly had said about his claim and I showed him Jay’s so-called proof that Gus is ancient.

“The next thing you’re going to tell me is Shakespeare actually wrote all those plays," Ted said mockingly. "Look, it’s not the same cat. Live with it. This Gus is a ringer, maybe three years old.”

Turning around, I looked through the storefront’s glass at good old Gus in his usual spot. He looked comfortable with a new electric heater under the blanket in his basket. It dawned on me that there was a time when Gus used to avoid me, as well. Now he seems happy for me to pet him, briefly.

Pulled back into the spell of the mystery, I wondered, had Gus changed or had I? Gus stared back at me and blinked. Like one of his favorite authors, J. D. Salinger, Gus wasn’t talking.

Gus was smiling as only a cat can; a smile that suggests equal parts of wisdom-of-the-ages and dumb-as-a-bag-of-hammers. One obvious truth about Gus the Cat was that he had grown quite accustomed to having a public.

*

Note: An earlier version of the fanciful piece above was published by Richmond.com in 2000. The photo of Gus was taken by Stacy Warner for Richmond.com at that time. On June 19, 2001 a cat alleged to have been the authentic Gus the Cat was found dead in Carytown Books; he was estimated by the bookstore's spokesperson to have been about 18 years old.

Banjo Conmen

Upon hearing the news of Earl Scruggs’ death earlier this year (Mar. 28, 2012), my thoughts went straight to a 36-year-old memory connected to a movie that played for two weeks at the Biograph Theatre (which I managed at the time) in January of 1976. The film was “Banjoman” (1975).

As “Banjoman” had only been in release for a couple of months when it played at the Biograph, the two young independent producers/distributors of the movie starring Earl Scruggs said they were learning their business on the fly. When their 105-minute movie opened at the Biograph they were there, too ... they had brought the 35mm print with them. It was their monster-sized sound system that we used to present the film to our patrons.

Richard Gilbert Abramson and Michael Varhol are credited as the production’s directors. Although I’m not certain, I think they were the two guys I dealt with in the story that follows.

The filmmakers were my age (I was 28 at this time). And, I almost think there was a third guy, but I’m not sure. My bosses in DeeCee had booked the film sometime after meeting one (or more) of the filmmakers in a social situation; I don‘t remember the details.

Traditional distributors, like Paramount, Warner Bros., and so forth, generally shipped the prints of their films by way of a courier accustomed to handling them. Although it was unusual for people to travel with a print of a movie in the trunk of their car, it was not unprecedented. As an independent exhibitor the Biograph booked product from various sources that a large movie chain would have routinely ignored.

“Banjoman” was just such a situation and its distributors actually hung around at the theater during screenings. They seemed like nice enough guys.    

It was unusual when my bosses had me pay the distributors directly in cash from box office receipts. But I didn’t question it. We even advanced them some money against anticipated receipts, when they had to leave after the first week to work in another city. 

Since they didn’t have much in the way of pressbook materials, ad slicks, etc., I created the Biograph’s display advertisements for the newspaper using stills from the film I had half-toned and setting a little type. That led to me agreeing to create similar materials for them to use in other cities. We agreed upon my price. It was something like $250, plus what it cost me to produce a stack of different sized ad slicks for them to use in the future.

At that point I think they had two other prints of their movie (with sound systems) working on the road. We kept in touch by telephone. They were anxious to get their new promotional materials from me for their other playdates. I did a rush job for them which they said they greatly appreciated.

Then came the day to ship their print and sound system to them in another city. The run at the Biograph was over. When the truck driver came by the theater he told me his helper wasn’t with him, so he said I needed to put the equipment on his truck. Well, at the time, I was the only one in the building and I was nursing a slipped disc in my lower back.

Unless I wanted to be laid-up for a spell, I couldn’t lift the stuff.

When the driver asked me how long it would take to get somebody there, to do the lifting, it annoyed me. I told the driver it was his job to get that junk on the truck, just to come back the next day with a helper. Yet, as I spoke with him I suddenly had a hunch that something was wrong. 

The truck driver shrugged and said, OK, he’d come back tomorrow. When I told one of the “Banjoman” guys what had happened, he said there was still plenty of time to get the equipment set up for the next engagement. So shipping it out the next day would be fine. Later that day the mailman delivered a bank notice that a $200 check they had written to me had bounced.

At this point, in addition to that check, they owed me another $600, or so, most of which I owed to a printer. And, they owed the Biograph maybe another $300, because in the second week of their film’s run it didn’t live up to expectations, so it failed to cover the advance in rental they had received.

By coincidence, I talked with my friend Dave DeWitt right after I got the rubber check in the mail. Dave had moved from Richmond to Albuquerque about a year earlier. At this time he was hosting a late night movie program on television there. When I told him about the check and about my hunch not to ship the equipment, he said he’d heard about the guys who had produced "Banjoman."

Dave told me he wanted to do a little checking up on them; he called back soon to tell me the jokers I’d been dealing with had left a trail of angry people behind them out in the West, back when they were shooting concert footage of Scruggs' tour. It seemed they had found ways to do a lot of things without paying up front. They had also ripped off a movie theater that had played "Banjoman," just a month before.

After that unsettling news I told the guys who had been conning me that until they settled up, I was keeping their sound equipment and print of "Banjoman." They threatened me with legal action. After a couple of months with no word from them I sold off their sound equipment, it was the sort of stuff a band might use.

Then some time later, maybe another couple of months, I was indeed served with legal papers. They sued me for about $90,000. Don't remember how that figure was generated. I laughed and offered them their print and about $800, which was what the equipment brought in, minus what they had owed the boys in DeeCee and me.

Over the telephone line the Banjo Conmen huffed and puffed again. I went ahead and sent them their print right away, cash on delivery, of course. After a few weeks of silence, they agreed to take the $800. My guess is most of that dough went to their local attorney. 

Ever since this oddball episode, whenever I hear Earl Scruggs’ banjo, I can't help but think of the weaselly Banjo Conmen; maybe after writing this account of their skulduggery that particular haunt will fade into the mists. RIP, Earl.      

-- 30 --

Biograph Times: The Handbill War of 1982

The Handbill War of 1982 tells a story about defending art and live music in the Fan District 30 years ago. Although some might say it was about defending trash and trash culture. The story is part of a collection of stories I've written called Biograph Times.

It felt to me like the City of Richmond was not only trampling on my freedom of speech rights, but it was trying to destroy the nightlife scene in the Fan District. The local authorities were trying to scrub away what some in Richmond had come to see as an undesirable element. 

Which meant I decided to go on stapling fliers to utility poles, more or less to invite a bust.

It wasn’t long before a polite cop showed up at the Biograph with a flier for the movie we were playing, “The Atomic Café.” He said he had removed it from a pole in the neighborhood. I admitted to putting it up and was issued a summons. Due to procedural delays, it took over four months for my day in court to arrive.

Which was fortunate, because I used that time window to build my case.

Click here to read the entire story.

The project of documenting selected shards of time from decades ago is nearing completion. I've got a few more pieces to finish, then there will be some tidying up to do to pull it all together.

After all that, I hope I will have the makings of a book about a time and culture I thought I understood when it was happening. Of course, writing about it now makes me laugh at that notion. Whatever mistakes I've made in recalling the events described in Biograph Times were unintentional, at least on a conscious level.

Enough of Recall Elections!

No, I didn’t want Wisconsin’s Gov. Scott Walker (depicted above) to defeat Milwaukee’s Mayor Tom Barrett.

After all, Walker has been a Poster Boy celebrity for the nationwide ambitions of Tea Party Republicans and the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC), to do as much damage to America’s union movement as possible.

As the political landscape is spread out today, with the unleashing of Super Pac money the Supreme Court's Citizens United decision brought on, if unions become toothless in the scheme of things, it will make for the most tilted playing field, money-wise, geezers like me have ever seen.

Thus, while it may be ruthless, it is entirely understandable why the elephants want to crush the donkey’s resources. What would be next on such a power-consolidation agenda is anybody's guess. 

Money angles are what most of the liberal analysts have seized upon to talk about. Walker's bravery and manly charisma are what the conservatives like to dwell on. But there were other considerations in play in yesterday’s news-making events in Wisconsin.

In the first place, this election was a do-over. Walker defeated Barrett a year-and-a-half ago. So, at least at this desk, there’s some question about whether Barrett was really the best candidate to run against Walker. Which leads me to my next point: What do I know about Wisconsin’s politics?

Moreover, how much do the jabbering experts on the cable news channels know about the history of politics in Wisconsin, far from either coast?

So far, most of them seem to be seeing the 2012 recall elections in Wisconsin through a national prism, as foreshadowing for the Romney vs. Obama showdown. History tells me that approach is frequently a shallow reading of situations in states with their own peculiarities, involving particular personalities.

What I do remember about Wisconsin is that it has been a home to outspoken partisans on both the left and right ... sometimes simultaneously. It’s my understanding the guys who wear those triangular wedge-of-cheese hats drink a lot of brandy and beer up there; I probably heard that in the Texas-Wisconsin Border Café, a favorite long-lost local dive. Hey, in 1966, I spent the better part of a day in Milwaukee. And, I surely did enjoy watching Russell Wilson (Collegiate HS in Richmond) play quarterback for the Badgers last season.

No, I don’t really know much about Wisconsin. Neither do a lot of people.

Yes, yesterday’s thumping of Mayor Barrett was due in great part to his lack of money. On top of that there were the losing candidate’s weaknesses, but I'd like to add that it also had to do with recall elections.

Yes, in spite of all the hoopla about Wisconsin’s impact of national politics, some voters who may happily vote for President Barrack Obama in November didn’t support the Democrats yesterday, maybe because they think recall elections are bad medicine.

Unlike the talking heads on TV are wont to do, I won’t guess at how many.

But I do know that today’s trend that has bad losers refusing to accept the results of elections is a growing problem on both sides of the aisle. The eight years of crying about the stolen presidential election of 2000, on the part of some Democrats, was bad form. Today, the refusal of some Republicans to accept Obama’s well-documented history as legitimate is outrageously tedious. 

My thinking is that if a Governor is convicted of a felony, throw the bum out. Short of that, the voters are stuck with the winner for their entire term. If you want shorter terms, to be safe, or term limits, then fine. But as much as I wanted Walker to lose, and I’m worried about what his victory will mean for unions, I’m still not so sure there should have been a special recall election in Wisconsin, in the first place.

So, if Walker’s victory means there will be fewer recall elections in America's future, well, that will be the silver lining to what was some cloudy bad news.

-- 30 --

 -- Illustration by F.T. Rea

Wisconsin: Politics as usual, or a tipping point?

Rather than promote a program or a candidate, in the new millennium voters are routinely inundated with advertising that was designed to make them loose faith in democracy and ignore the voting process. To Republicans, bad weather on election day is a good thing. Rain or shine, the GOP also likes to use robo-call campaigns to give voters bum steers on election day.

Traditionally, low turnouts do favor Republicans, so it‘s no wonder they have also been concentrating so much on making it harder to vote in lots of states.

In 2012, have Wisconsin’s voters been grossed out by an avalanche of lying political ads? Will they just stay at home today? In tough economic times, will citizens in Wisconsin who are pissed off that so much money can be poured into an ugly struggle for power stay home, too?

Stemming from that avalanche, can voters be convinced that instead of greedy bankers, teachers and firefighters are actually the villains responsible for today's economic woes? Or, have we reached a tipping point with politics as usual?

Perhaps none of the conventional wisdom about turnouts will apply to 2012. 

Tonight Wisconsin will provide some answers.

Samuels on Broad St. parking woes

Richmond's Second District representative on City Council, Charles Samuels, issued a statement earlier today about headline-making Fan District parking problems: 

Over the past several days, I have been engaging with residents and business owners concerning the parking issues on Broad Street in Richmond's Fan District Neighborhood.  I have reached out to the Richmond Department of Public Works Office of Parking and the Richmond Police Department to find a solution that will not only address the parking problems, but also keeps local residents safe.

Based on these conversations, I am planning on introducing legislation in Richmond City Council that will encourage the Administration to review the parking laws on this corridor. A year or two ago the Administration and I reviewed the cruising laws on Hermitage Road and we found options that allowed for additional parking. I am hopeful we can do the same here.

Residents in that area who have been instrumental in helping to revitalize West Broad Street by being willing to live there should not have life made harder for them by outdated parking rules.

Growing Richmond's Show Biz Scene

Instead of systematically stifling show business, as it has done for the last half-century, imagine stuck-in-the-mud Richmond suddenly wanting to make a genuine effort to cultivate a downtown entertainment scene. What would be the first smart thing to do?   

With three recent posts at his blog, The Richmonder, J.C. Wilmore focused on Richmond's wrongheaded admissions tax. The video above imagines vacant buildings being filled with entertainment venues. The excerpt below is from a post that explains some of how the admissions tax is hurting Richmond.

The admissions tax actually costs Richmond more revenue than it brings in because it discourages the formation of an entertainment sector in Richmond that would generate significantly more revenue than Richmond would lose if it eliminated the admissions tax. I'll write more about the negative impact of the admissions tax tomorrow. 

Click here to read Wilmore's "Growing the entertainment sector is the way to move Richmond forward."

Click here to read Wilmore's "Repealing the Admissions Tax won't blow Richmond's budget."

Click here to visit the Stop Taxing Tickets Facebook group.

Click here to read, "Not the Ticket," my piece on the admissions tax issue that ran in Style Weekly in February.

There's always something cooking...

Always something happening and nothing going on
There's always something cooking and nothing in the pot
They're starving back in China so finish what you got

-- From John Lennon’s “Nobody Told Me”

Fifteen years ago, when I was becoming addicted to being connected to the Internet, if you had asked me if the Internet would stimulate third party politics in America and eventually facilitate new regional, even nation political parties, I would have said, "Yes."

Well, mostly, I would have been wrong.

Still, I think it's somewhat strange that it hasn't happened. If you look at the status-quo-roiling effect the social media have been having in some other countries, it's easy to see how quickly movements can be put together.

When you look at how the Occupy/99% movement coalesced out of thin air in this country last fall, the potential of how modern communications might launch a new political party was certainly there for all to see. In this case, the spirit of the movement had little or nothing to do with trying to start a new political party, so only the potential was shown to us.

How experiencing the shared ordeal they endured will change the most dedicated of the demonstrators will be interesting to watch down the road. The full impact the Occupy/99% phenomenon will have on the electorate remains to be seen, but there aren‘t any signs that it will lead to the formation of a third party.

The Tea Party has turned out to be a fizzler for those who imagined in the beginning that they were forming a new national political party, well to the right of the big-spending, deficit-ignoring Republicans that made policy during the most recent Bush administration. Some of them must be bitterly disappointed that their noisy movement of 2009/10 was so easily hijacked and converted into a tool by the GOP's leadership.

In post-WWII American politics third parties became even more unfashionable in a nation already accustomed to two-party rule. During the Cold War Era ideology became so important it overshadowed issues. Everything had to be viewed through a liberal or conservative prism. But since it is issues that usually breathe life into third parties, over the last half-century we‘ve watched the various attempts at creating new political parties rise and fall, one by one, because both Republicans and Democrats have continued using Cold War rhetoric and old habits die hard.

In addition, in 2012, what seems to be working overtime to prevent new parties from emerging are two sides of the same coin -- apathy and impatience.

Most people are put off by the hurly-burly of politics and don’t care to engage. And, too many of those who do care about politics fall into one of two categories: 1. They are hopelessly partisan and wouldn't consider an alternative to the party they prefer. 2. If they do lean away from both parties, they are so impatient to get instant results they can’t stay organized and focused long enough to affect change.

While it would seem there's plenty of fertile ground between the Republicans and Democrats, in which to plant the seeds for a third national party -- a practical, problem-solving movement -- the passion to cultivate such a party's growth doesn't seem to be there.

So, we live with having to choose between two parties that are both better at fundraising and quarreling than anything else. Parties that routinely spend obscene amounts of money in the pursuit of power, all the while knowing they won't be able to get much of anything accomplished on the problem-solving front.

Strange days, indeed.

-- 30 --

Jake Wells: ‘Father of Richmond Movie Houses’

There are records of an exhibition of “moving pictures” having been presented at The Academy (the Mozart Academy of Music) at 103-05 N. Eighth Street in 1897. Built in 1886, that venue was generally considered to be Richmond’s most important and stylish theater, until it burned down in 1927.

It is said that in 1906 the Idlewood Amusement Park, which was across the street from the New Reservoir Park (later renamed Byrd Park) held regular screenings of “photo dramas,” open to the public for the price of a ticket.

George W. Rogers (writing for the Richmond News Leader in 1952) credited one showman, Jake Wells (pictured above), as having been the “…father of Richmond movie houses.”

Wells was a former-major league baseball player (1882-84). With his best days as a performer behind him, in the late-1890s, Wells — acting as player/manager of Richmond’s minor league baseball franchise in the Atlantic League — became a dashing figure in the local nightlife scene. He was one of the most popular men in Richmond.

When Wells suddenly lost that sports gig, his platform, he looked around town for what next to do. Imagining he had a future in show biz, Wells took the leap to create the Bijou at 7th and Broad Streets in 1899. The instantly popular Bijou offered selected vaudeville acts that fit into Wells’ concept of “family entertainment,” as he called it.

The first venue thrived. A second version of the Bijou was built for Wells in 1905 at 816 East Broad, on the site of the legendary Swan Tavern. Occasionally, a short film was thrown onto a screen … eventually the films developed a following.

Films continued to play a larger role as time went on. With his brother Otto, Jake expanded into the Norfolk market, opening the Granby. In the early-1920’s the mighty Wells chain included 42 theaters sprinkled across the Southeast.

Eventually, Wells turned his back on what had made him a powerful man. He cashed in his movie theater interests to concentrate on becoming a real estate development tycoon. In 1927, caught in the grip of a nasty spell of melancholia, Jake Wells drove out to the countryside with a female companion, shot himself in the head — twice! — and died.

For more on Wells, the first baseman turned impresario, click here, and here. And, for you baseball fans, here’s a page with his Major League baseball stats.

-- 30 --

Bogus boundaries for arts district won't help

It says here that Mayor Dwight Jones and Second District Councilman Charles Samuels don't even understand why so many people go out to the galleries for the First Fridays Art Walk.

That ham-handed duo's finesse to do with art was much on display with the recent Art 180 snafu on Monument Avenue. Nonetheless, they’re both hoping there’s a way for some investors, people who've had nothing to do with building up First Fridays, to cash in on the phenomenon that has been steadily transforming a formerly moribund part of Downtown Richmond.

So, as it has been with pouring public funds into the bottomless pit that is CenterStage, this new help-local-arts-and-culture plan emerging from City Hall isn’t so much about art or performance. It’s more about real estate.

Yet, using decree to expand the unofficial Arts District label to cover parts of the city that have little in common with the gallery scene between Belvidere and 2nd will make the official map of the district’s boundaries seem bogus.

It's a stretch to extend it to 7th Street. Taking it all the way from Belvidere to 13th -- with "outcroppings" -- makes the label into wishful thinking propaganda, rather than a faithful description of reality.

If the City of Richmond wants to offer incentives to stimulate growth in various parts of town that’s fine. I’ve no quarrel whatsoever with that concept, in a general sense. But there’s no need to shanghai the name Arts District and render it vague and meaningless.

My guess is that establishing that deliberate falsehood won’t do much to really help Richmond’s arts scene, or its tax base, in the long run.

Hey, I’m all for helping Richmond’s creative class thrive, maybe I could make a buck out of that, but Downtown Richmond surely doesn’t need more phony deals.

What local political candidates ought to do is call for a big confabulation to be assembled this summer, to find ways for Richmond’s government to help bring more success to the existing galleries, clubs and theaters, etc., in Richmond's downtown area. What laws and policies should be changed, or even 86ed? What sort of incentives might really help?

Then some consideration of how to attract more galleries, clubs and theaters to Downtown Richmond would be useful. After all, isn’t it reasonable to assume conventioneers with money in their pockets might want to walk from the Convention Center to a gallery, club or theater?

The reasons you won't hear mayoral or councilmanic candidates drumming up enthusiasm for such a public exchange of ideas to take place this summer are simple: The poseurs among them don't want to hear what would be said. And, even worse, some of them wouldn’t like for the voters to hear it, either.

Will on Trump: 'Bloviating ignoramus'

Trump tweets back: "Dumbest..."

Jobs? But first a little sodomy

 Del. Bob Marshall: 'Did you ever see water fountains 

in Virginia that say heterosexuals only?'

In spite of the GOP's incessant claims that the economy is the most important issue and creating jobs is their top priority, what do Republicans in Virginia choose to talk about at their tea parties?

Jobs?

Well, maybe later ... but first a little sodomy.

A week after making the assertion that “sodomy is not a civil right,” Del. Robert G. Marshall, R-Prince William, stood by his remarks during a campaign visit to a Central Virginia tea party meeting and said being gay "cuts your life by about 20 years."

“If sodomy is a civil right, do we have to protect it? Do we have to fund it? Do we have to teach it? Do we have to encourage it? Do we have to facilitate it?,” Marshall said in an interview Thursday after an appearance at a meeting of the Jefferson Area Tea Party. “It is not a civil right.”

To read all of "GOP Senate contender Marshall says being gay 'cuts your life by about 20 years'" at the Richmond Times-Dispatch click here. 

Biograph Artifacts

Program No. 21 (1974)

Program No. 42 (1977)

Program No. 43 (1977)

Program No. 47 (1978)

Midnight show handbill (1979)

Program No. 53 (1980)

Program No. 56 (1981)


Autographed (director John Waters) handbill (Nov. 1981)

Handbill for New Year's party 1981/82

1982 handbill for a mirthful Tati twin bill

Program No. 60 (1982)

The Artless Mayor

The Fan District Slant is a new space to discuss politics and popular culture, to air out opinions. No attempt will be made to artificially balance what will be presented there. Advocacy journalism will be practiced without apology. However, this doesn't mean fairness and honesty won't matter.

Here's an excerpt from the new web site's first essay:

Pretending to care in a convincing way is something any ambitious politician has to be able to do. Mayor Dwight Jones’ problem is that when it comes to feigning an interest in some things he doesn’t care about, such as art and baseball, well, he’s not such a good performer.

Art first, baseball later:

When I first read Jones’ interview in Style Weekly (May 9, 2012), I laughed a couple of times at what I thought were funny answers to Don Harrison’s questions. It was a quick reading. A week or so later, a second reading had me wondering why Jones ever agreed to do an interview for which he was clearly unprepared.

To read "The Artless Mayor," which reacts to that interview with Richmond's Mayor Jones, click here.

As Virginia is a so-called "battleground state" this year and Richmond is in the middle of the commonwealth, I figure the Fan District must be ground zero. So, with no more permission than that the propaganda that surrounds issues and elections (local, statewide and national) will be examined and demystified at The Fan District Slant.

Comments are welcomed but will be moderated.

General news and notices about politics won't be posted there. Submissions of original OpEd style essays are welcomed. Please keep the length of them between 500 and 1,000 words. And, by the way, if all you want to do is simply parrot what is already being said at Fox News or MSNBC, don't bother. The Fan District Slant will post submissions from people who do their own thinking.

And, yes, please submit your original political cartoons. Good ones will be posted, no matter who is the butt of the joke.

Five Favorite Protest Songs

Great protest songs, originally written and sung before my time, paved the way for the folk-rockers, rhythm & blues artists and early punks who addressed their attention to war and social causes with pop culture music in the late-60s and early-70s.

Protest songs are on my mind today, as I take in the news from the Windy City, images of Chicago that bring 1968 back to mind.

Over the years my taste in music has evolved (or perhaps degenerated). So I can’t say for sure what would have been on this list of five favorites, had I complied it 20 or 30 years ago. Today my five favorite protest song cuts from my time of learning to appreciate such a genre are:

“I Ain’t Marching Anymore” by Phil Ochs (released in 1965); written by Phil Ochs
“People Get Ready” by the Impressions (released in 1965); written by Curtis Mayfield
“Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival (released in 1969); written by John Fogerty
“Ohio” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (released in 1970); written by Neil Young 
“Won’t Get Fooled Again” by The Who (released in 1971); written by Pete Townshend

OK, I cheated by including the John Lennon video. Nonetheless, over the years it seems to me all five (six) picks have held up fairly well, as music.

Rams jilt CAA

Writing for AP, Hank Kurtz analyzes VCU’s move from the Colonial Athletic Association to the Atlantic 10.

"Premier universities are premier across the board, and that includes athletics," Rao said. "We need to be willing, and we are certainly able, to compete at the very highest levels, and we look forward to doing that in the A-10."

He acknowledged that $5 million is a lot to walk away from, as is a conference tournament played just down the street from the university.

"The expected returns are far greater that the short-term losses," Rao said, and the increased expectations despite a move to a more competitive league are welcome.

"We wouldn't have it any other way," Rao said. "We play to win. We expect it win. We have been winning."

Watching VCU president Michael Rao’s press conference (live) on video was revealing. I came away from it thinking Rao doesn’t know much about basketball, or sports, in general. I could be wrong, but he didn’t sound like a guy familiar with the footing on which he was standing to opine. That doesn’t mean the move to the Atlantic 10 is a bad move, or a good move. With the flux that conferences are in today, only time will tell.

Me? I’m thinking about Aesop’s fable about the dog on a bridge that dropped his bone, to grab after an illusion of a bigger bone in the water.

As far as men’s basketball is concerned, if VCU goes on winning at the rate they have since Shaka Smart was hired by Rao’s predecessor, Eugene Trani, it probably won’t matter all that much which conference VCU calls home.

However, I can say that Trani understood college basketball. During his presidency he was a frequent visitor in the media room after games and he traded observations with reporters in a way that demonstrated his ability to grasp events on the fly, without someone writing a script for him.

In addition to walking away from guaranteed money, VCU is trading away its intense CAA rivalries with William & Mary, George Mason, Old Dominion, James Madison, Drexel, etc., for potential A10 rivals. Thus, VCU hopes to create meaningful relationships with Duquesne, Fordham, Saint Louis, Xavier, Massachusetts and George Washington.

Longtime Rams fans probably hope there will be a way to continue playing Mason and ODU, at least, in future basketball seasons.

*

Update: ODU leaving CAA to join C-USA.